


Nothing left to fight

by 10k_au



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Withdrawal, Implied Child Abuse, Interracial Relationship, Multi, Paganism, Power Play, Religion, Seizures, Sexual Abuse, domestic abuse, petit-mal episodes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-29 16:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8497246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10k_au/pseuds/10k_au
Summary: Victoria Garnett has a shadowed past, she's on the hunt for her twin brother, her father, and eventually revenge.





	1. Vagabond soul

The trees sway on the horizon, like there’s some kind of unholy breath commanding them to move in such a way. Tori sits in a large opening in the warehouse wall, legs hanging over the edge. She looks down the three or so stories that she’s suspended above, mind floating from one thought to another, never really settling. Oh how she wishes that she could just settle. She lifts a cigarette to her lips, inhales softly, and lets the smoke fill the still air around her. There are footsteps behind her, but she ignores them, focusing on trying not to think. Legs appear beside hers over the edge, and Ash sits down beside her, patting her on the thigh.

“You okay?” She asks, gazing out over the landscape in the same way as Tori, their eyes in quiet companionship as they search for nothing in particular. With another puff, she nods her head and offers the cig to her friend.

“Just wishing, ya’know?” she whispers, watching a Zombie stumbling along by the river, imagining it was a human, out for a Sunday stroll, no threat, no worry.

“What are you wishing for?” asks Ash, dragging on roll-up like it was the last one she was ever going to lay her hands on. Tori looks over at her, giving her a little smile, shielding her eyes from the evening sun with her hand.

“That I could just run” she tells her. “That I could just go through that door and keep moving, into the woods, further. Just keep going.” She returns her gaze, and she tilts her head, passing the cigarette back again, and shrugging.

“Why don’t you” her words end on a cough, she probably shouldn’t have been smoking. Tori looks down at her thighs, pulling the sleeves of her jumper further down over her hands and chewing softly at her bottom lip. The words roll over in her head, but they don’t leave her mouth. She doesn’t want to say them.

“Because of Jack?” Ash presses, crossing her legs and swinging her feet. Tori sighs and stubs out the cig on the wall next to her, throwing it to the ground, watching it until it’s invisible in the sand below.

“Not just because of Jack, ash” she whispers, looking over at her again. “I don’t know who I am outside of this anymore. We’ve been here for so long, It’s hard to imagine being alone.”

“So it is about him.”

“Ash.”

“Alright alright, I’m sorry.” She doesn’t meet Tori’s eye, just goes back to watching the trees. Tori looks at her for a moment, imagining that she’s her sister. That she has someone that she can confide in, someone she can trust. But just as she is about to believe this alternate reality, Ash speaks again, shattering the illusion.

“He wants you, by the way. I think we can all guess what for.”

Tori gets to her feet, sighing as she straightens out her clothing and turns away from the scenery. As her feet take the steps for her, slowly towards the stairs that will take her to Jack’s office, she lets her mind wander again. She pictures herself taking the steps two at a time, pushing her weakened body as he dodges bodies through the hallway and to the big double doors of the warehouse. Then she’s free, feet on open earth, to never come back again. But she’s not, she’s standing outside of the familiar silver door to Jack’s room. She lifts her fist, pauses for a moment and then knocks.

“Come in!” comes a deep husk voice, laden with attitude. Tori pushes at the cold metal, swings the door to and steps into the office. It’s warm inside, a couple of space heaters propped up in the corner, using the majority of the electricity that the small community had managed to conduct. With a quick look around, she spots him sat on the table, long legs stretched to the ground, arms crossed on his chest. She regards him with a careful eye, taking a few steps towards him.

“Tori” he smiles, a sickening smile that she’s learnt not to trust but that her heart still skips a beat for, every single time she sees it. “What a pleasant surprise!” She blushes and tucks her fists further into the fabric of her pullover.

“You wanted to see me?”

He nods as if she’s reminded him and stands up, jacket falling lax around him, and licks his lips. Tori melts a little but doesn’t move, unsure of how he’ll respond to day to any sign of warmness. She watches as he slides one hand into his pocket and beckons her over with the other. Perhaps today is one of his good days.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” He mutters, waiting for her to come closer. She closes the gap and he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into a kiss. His lips are rough on hers, his tongue coaxing hers as he pulls her closer still, their bodies taut against each other. Every muscle in her body relaxes, her eyes sliding shut as everything else disintegrates around her. Leaving just them, in that moment, together. When he pulls away his stubble catches on her skin, bringing her sharply back into the moment.

“You’re so beautiful” he tells her, lips moving to her jaw. Her face splits into a grin, hands rising to his neck to hold him there. His hands slide up under her shirt and he rolls it up. After a moment of bliss, her hands are on top of his, pushing them away.

“Not right now” she mumbles, “I’m out on supply run in a bit”

“Someone else can go” he groans, knocking her hands away and pulling her jumper up to her shoulders. She ducks away, pulling her top back down, cheeks red, hair a mess.

“I said no thank you” she whispers, eyes averted from his face.

“No?” he mutters. “You don’t want to?” The tone of his voice is bitter and sharp, and she shakes her head so little that the chances of him even seeing it are slim. She wraps her arms around her middle, trying to isolate herself in his gaze. The last thing she wants to do is upset him, he’s all she has.

He moves towards her again, arms out as if he’s about to embrace her, but at the last second he brings his hand up and the back of his fingers meet the side of her face with a shattering crash. She’s knocked to the ground, head spinning a little from the force. With a whimper she tries to sit up, spitting a little blood to the floor, her lip stinging, split and gushing. Before she can manage to pull herself to her knees though, his foot comes down on her cheek, smashing her back into the floor. Pain flashes across her eye and down her nose, red swimming before her vision.

He’d broken her nose again.

She stayed down this time, struggling to breathe through the pain. Eventually, he picked her up off of the ground and held her against his chest, his hand stroking through her hair gently. A sob wrecked through her chest, and he shushed her softly.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled. “You know how you get me angry sometimes.” He holds her for a while, and she stays perfectly still. When he finally lets go, she grits her teeth, swallowing back blood, unwilling to give him any more. With a blank stare she gives him a half smile and then clears her throat.

“I’m thinking of moving on” she says, hands once again in their default fists by her sides. His eyes bore into her head, and a cruel smirk slides onto his face, knowing he’s walking into a battle that he’s already won.

“Not this again, Tor” he laughs, using the name he only used to refer to her when he was messing with her somehow. Tori flinches as another flicker of mind numbing pain rushes across her face. She has the urge to lift her hand, put her nose back and stop the pain. But she’s not going to let him have that.

“No, I’m serious” she says plainly. He rolls his eyes in response, those beautiful dark eyes. Then his hand goes into his back pocket and retrieves a small thin box, pale and metallic. Her eyes fly to it, heart race increasing. Jack chuckles, removing the lid slowly but deliberately.

“When I got you this?” he asks with mock sadness, bottom lip sticking out. She forgets everything for a moment, wiping blood from her chin with the back of her hand. She can’t look away from his hands as he prises a syringe out of the container, lifting it so that it catches the light, catches her attention. It catches her. She’s stuck again and she instantly knows it. Shivers run through her veins as If it twenty below zero, bringing a whole new pain to the party.

“Aren’t I generous?” Jack exclaims, flicking the air out of the tube. Now the shakes are back. Tori wants to dash across and rip the drugs out of his hands, she wants it. She needs it. He has her again. She nods without thinking and takes a step towards him.

“Ah ah ah!” he tuts and shakes his head, gesturing with his other hand that he’s waiting for something. Swallowing, she nods and regrets it instantly, a dull ache slamming into her skull, as if her brain was pushing against the bone, struggling to escape.

“I’m sorry” she whispers. “For ruining the moment”

“That’s okay” he smiles, eyes suddenly warm again. Maybe he never meant to hurt her, perhaps it was her fault, and he was looking after her wasn’t he? He must care. He welcomes her into his arms again and takes her arm, turning it over and stroking the soft skin over the crease of her elbow. Then slowly, he slips the needle into her vein and pushes the pale blue liquid into her body. Slowly her eyes roll back into her head, pleasure rolling through every inch of her body. With one deep delighted exhalation, she buckles slightly into his arms, where he catches her and nuzzles her neck gently.

“There you go,” he says affectionately, touching the bruised areas of her face, turning the ice cold pain into hot desire. “Back to normal, huh?” He carries her to the sofa and lays her down, going back to stroking her hair. She focuses on his face, watching as he comes in to kiss her forehead.

“You know I love you, Tori” he mutters, face serious again. She nods, swallowing, bathing in the gorgeous ecstasy still coursing through her. His hands go to her waist again and begin rolling her jumper and tank up, fingers warm against her cold skin, slick with perspiration. As his hands lift and come back down to her trousers, undoing her buttons slowly, the drugs spill in behind her thoughts, and she falls into a restless sleep.


	2. Empty Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tori has to leave Jack, but her getaway is hindered by multiple aspects.

“Tori, Tori wake up!”

With a start her eyes snap open, automatically pain from withdrawal locks up her body, she hasn’t been shot up in a couple of days. And the symptoms were setting in, she looks up into the face of Ash. Her cheek is bright red, blooming purple around the edges. With a frown she sits up, sleep still clouding her mind.

“What happened? Who got you this time?” She mutters, reaching out towards her bunkmate’s face. Ash pushes her hand away and pulls at her arm, pulling her to her feet.

“You have to go!” she says, looking over her shoulder as if checking that they’re not being watched. “You’re in danger” pulling her across the room, she throws her clothes into her arms. Tori catches them and puts them over her shoulder, tugging free of Ash’s grip she shakes her head.

“Ash, what’s going on, you’re not making any sense” She puts a hand on her friends shoulder, spinning her around and giving her a questioning look, Ash grimaces and her whole body tenses up. It’s obviously been a while since her last fix too, but she’s shaking on top of her familiar withdrawal shakes. She takes a deep breath and then more collected than before, she takes Tori’s hand.

“One of the boys told Jack that they messed around with you.”

“What? Why would they say that?” Tori’s face scrunches up, and she pushes her hair up and away from her face, trying to make the words make sense in her head, instead of the soup of letters settling at the bottom.

“I don’t know, but Jack’s on the war path” She pulls something out of her pocket and places it in Tori’s palm, solid and cold. The gun glints in the light, and she wraps her fingers around the grip, not able to look away. Jack had never let her have a weapon before, for her own safety. But now that she had one in her own hand, it felt as though it was meant to be.

“You have to go now” Ash urges, eyes wide, tears glistening. “Run, Run and don’t look back.” She pushes her towards the door, long nails digging into her spine. Tori turns, hands bracing herself in the doorway.

“Come with me” she whispers, her own tears building. “I can’t leave you here, God what would they do to you?” Cold weak hands push her out of the door and Ash’s voice tells her she’ll escape as soon as she can, meet her somewhere south. With pain she finally turns, clothes and gun in hand and takes the steps a few too many at a time, tripping but not falling. Jack’s office is empty, but she’s not sure whether this is a good or bad sign. Without a second look she darts down the open hallway, only to drop her shoes and slide to a stop and gather them back up.

“Tor?”

Jack appears at the other end of the hall, when her gaze meets his, a hurt look moulds itself out of his features. He holds out a hand towards her, and she slows in adjusting the pile of garments in her hands.

“Please don’t leave me Tori?” He mutters, she looks at the shirts, realising that they’ll only slow her down. She drops them and places her other hand on the gun, lifting it so that she has it aimed firmly at him. Her hands shake and Jack’s look of pain shifts slowly into a smirk.

“You going to shoot me, baby?” he asks, taking a few steps towards her. “You got the guts to put a bullet between my eyes?” She almost falls into those eyes again, whirling vacuums that pull her back whenever she gets too close. Her finger shifts on the trigger, away and back again as she struggles against her subconscious. She can’t. Not him.

Instead she turns, and dashes through the doors into the cold.

“VICTORIA!” Jack roars, angrier than she’s ever heard him before. She pushes herself towards the treeline ahead, aware that the doors are being flung open again, probably not Jack, but pursuers that he’s sending after her. Approaching the trees, she turns south, away from the river and hopefully, towards freedom.

After an hour or so, her body begins to let her down. She stumbles into the undergrowth and picks herself back up, gasping for air, limbs screaming at her to stop. Finally she crumbles, falling to her knees and coughing into the mossy ground. Rolling herself onto her back, she stares through the foliage at the moon.

“Are you out there?” she whimpers, her breath catches in her throat, lungs struggling to cope. Pain shoots across her limbs, and it brings the shakes back with it. She pushes her hand into her pockets one at a time, searching for the needle, the one that Ash had given her a while back as a precaution, enough to last her until she could find people. Nothing. Panic enters every atom of her body. She must have dropped it. “I need you” she adds on a sob towards the sky. “I don’t know if I can do this.” She pushes herself to her feet once more and wraps her arm around herself, staggering over branches and dirt, not sure where she’s going, but knowing that she has to keep moving.

Reaching a small wooden outhouse at the edge of the woods, she pushes the door open, collapsing through and finding herself on the floor once more. With a look around, it’s obvious that the shed had been empty for a long while. Spider webs hung from every piece of furniture, dust an inch thick laying undisturbed on table tops. She drags herself across the floor towards the chair in the opposite corner of the room. She reaches the soft fabric with her fingertips, but the rest of her body falls short.

Her head hits the floor with a sickening crack, and she freezes, eyes open and aware, but unable to move. Her fingers twitch a little and her breathing hitches, every muscle in her body turns to stone. Eventually she gets her breathing back. She takes a few large inhalations and they squeak in her mouth, she then moves onto rolling her head on her shoulders slowly, checking that everything is back and working as well. The agony is still there, but now there’s exhaustion piled on top of it. Head heavy she wipes her face where she had dribbled while she was absent, and pulls herself up into the chair, curling up around her legs and shuddering as an ache rolled dull and harsh behind her eyes. She was so empty, it felt as though her veins were full of nothing but air. She coughs a couple of times, tucking her hands under her jumper, warming them against her stomach. She can feel a bump coming up on the side of her head, but she tries to ignore it, so tired that her eyelids begin to shut without her input. 

The sound of smashing china wakes her within seconds.

“Nan?” She sits up straight, eyes wide, searching the room. No kitchen, no plates, no Nancy. Withdrawal symptoms were simply playing with her again, trying to break her. Perhaps trying to get her to go back to Jack, back to the cool blue liquid.

“Jack?”

“Someone?” more pain shatters her bones, making her stretch out involuntarily, breathing so deeply out that she feels as though her ribs are going to crack, give way under the pressure and burst out of her chest.

“What are you doing here?”

A man emerges from the shadows, shotgun cocked and lifted to waist. He’s older, probably middle aged. A short white beard and dark hat crowning his lightly wrinkled face. Tori scrambles for her gun, numb fingers dropping it to the floor. With a curse she lifts her hand into the air, watching as he approached.

“Answer me, what are you doing in my cabin?” His voice is heavy with a southern accent, something Tori hasn’t heard in a very long time.

She tries to speak, but the words get lodged in her throat, her body is shutting down faster than she originally thought it would, like a wheel rolling downhill the effects were happening quicker, turning her into a clammy mess of ticks. The man lifts the safety.

“I’m not going to ask you again.” He pushes.

“Please” she manages, hands falling into her lap again as she folds over in another coughing fit, each movement making her stomach turn with the amount of pain it enflames in her skull. “I need… I need help.” She lifts herself to her feet and teeters for a moment before dropping to her knees, moaning a little.

“Girl?” The man drops the barrel of gun and moves over to squat down beside her and check on her. Tori gasps slightly, trying to comfort herself by clenching her fists, but finding herself unable to do so, her fingers stiff and numb. Two in one day? She was getting worse. Or maybe it had been more than a day. Slowly she felt herself withdrawing into her mind, like a sleep that she couldn’t stop from arriving.

The stranger picks her up, and as he carries her out of the room, she thinks she catches a glimpse of a little girl stood by the chair, her arm outstretched, bottom lip trembling. Tori wants to reach back, scream to the man to take her back. That he’d forgotten her sister, that he’d forgotten her Nancy.

But the next thought that comes to her is when she wakes up in a dark room, her body aching and drained, and then a spotlight hits her eyes.


	3. Lace and Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What intentions does the man who picked Tori up have? Can he help with her withdrawal?

The light is too bright for Tori’s eyes. She tries to lift her hand to forehead, but she can only lift it to her waist level. There’s something tight around her wrist, a cuff, a cuff with a chain attached. She uses her other hand instead, wincing as she struggles to make out what’s beyond the lamp.

“Don’t struggle” says that southern accent. “I only have you restrained so you couldn’t hurt yourself.” The man walks into her field of vision, carrying something large and square under his arm. She pulls on the chain, looking down to see that it’s securing her to the table that she’s been perched on. It’s then that she notices what she’s wearing, a blue and white chequered dress, like the ones that she used to dress her dolls in before she helped them dance around her bedroom. There’s lace around the hem, scratchy but light against her naked skin.

“what.. why?” Tori can’t formulate the sentence that she wants to, her thoughts are scrambled, nothing about the situation that she finds herself in makes any sense. The man continues to approach and then He lifts the object that he’s brought with him, once it’s in front of her she comes to the realisation that it’s a mirror. A twisted version of herself stares back, green eyes wide, mouth parted slightly. Lipstick has been applied carefully to her lips, matte and dark, like the blood that she had become so used to seeing on her pale skin. It now seems so false, as if tears in her flesh were the only crimson reality, that everything else was a poor counterfeit. The rest of her skin had been powdered into one colour, her freckles submerged. She couldn’t remember a time before she’d hated those marks on her skin. Now they were gone she felt so naked, like she wasn’t herself, like she was as good as dead. What hits her most are the bruises, hidden and forgotten. She doesn’t know how she feels about it, Happy that she looks like she used to? No. Sad. Sad that the marks, all that she had left of Jack, were gone.

“Don’t you look pretty?” says the man, his voice full of a desperation that makes Tori feel mightily uneasy.

“Why? Why have you done this?” She mutters, pulling her legs underneath herself so that she feels less exposed under his gaze. He drops the mirror, and she wishes that it was that easy to remove the image from her mind, but it’s stuck there, like a ripped section of film. Where she’s different, she’s an object.

“I made you pretty” The man smiles, his teeth crooked and yellow. Tori pushes herself as far away from him as possible, so that she’s pushed up against the wall, spine chilled and aching from the need to sleep. “My beautiful little china doll.” Her blood runs cold. Everything suddenly comes together. Why he has her chained up, why she has makeup all over her face. He wants to keep her, and who knows what else he wants to do. 

“I’m not yours.” She becomes aware of a slurring to her voice. Weakness sometimes followed her seizures, normally she was able to push through it. But she was so faint that she couldn’t do it. She could feel a lack of blood in her cheeks, a dryness in her eyes. She was fading fast. The man’s face drops as though you’ve broken his very soul.

“It’s alright, Susie” he whispers. “I know you’ve been through a lot.” Susie? The man is delusional, he thinks that she’s someone else, someone that he knows. She shuffles on her knees and lifts her hands just as she had in the outhouse, trying to show that she was no threat to him.

“I don’t know where Susie is” she whispers. “But I’m not her. My name is Victoria” There’s silence in the room apart from the buzz of the overworked lightbulb and the clink of a door somewhere close by opening and shutting in the wind.

“What’s your name?” She tries, managing to force a smile. Sweat rolls down her cheek, her skin stick to it, slowing it down as if reluctant to let it go. The stranger is staring at her, brow low, and he shifts from foot to foot.

“I’m Wilson” he mutters, a growl in his tone.

“Wilson” The heaviness is returning to her head, threatening to bowl her down, knock her out again. For a moment she can picture the liquid that her body is craving and it makes her go soft in her joints. She pushes the image away and then swallows back the pain. She smoothes her hair down, and it glues to her cold skin.

She’s in bed, hair sticking to her clammy forehead, body shaking against her will. She snuggles deeper into her duvet, away from the house, away from her mother and her mother’s screams.

“You have to come back out, she’s dying!”

“No! The antibiotics aren’t enough, I need you to come back and see her again.”

She’s on the phone to the doctor. She’s called them fifteen times already tonight, although she hadn’t been up to check on her once. The sound resonates through her skull, amplified by her fever, making her eyes well up with tears. Suddenly a warm hand goes over hers. Nancy’s face appears at her bedside, pale hair framing her face like the angels that she liked to colour.

“Tori?” she whispers. Her mouth opens to form more words, and Tori waits for them to be built patiently, watching her sisters’ eyes.

“Did you fit?” She finally said, each letter pronounced carefully, as if they would detonate if she said them wrong. Tori shakes her head, she didn’t think that she had. Nancy had told her how to tell if what was happening to her was one of what she called her seizures. She wasn’t sure what a seizure was, but if Nan told her that it was what she had, then she believed her.

“You went quiet” she adds, putting the back of her hand against her forehead, wincing as it was way too hot on her skin. Tori shudders under all of her blankets. Nancy had refused to let her have anymore. She’d told her it would make her overheat. Tori didn’t understand, she was cold, not hot. But she listened to her, because she was the thing she trusted more in the world than anything else.

“I know you’re not Susie” Say’s Wilson.

Tori’s eyes flutter open, she’s laying on the table top, skin sticking to the surface, breaths sticking to her lungs. She’s not sure how long she’s been out, but the lamp has dimmed slightly, heaven to her tortured brain.

“I know you’re not her, but she’s gone, and you’re here.”

She’s not sure that she’s here either anymore. She looks at the faint outline of his body, sat in a chair in front of her. He’s nothing more than a blur. She laughs a little into the wood, delirium setting in. She couldn’t believe that she was going to go out this way, Not by zombie, but by NOT taking drugs. Wilson gives her a funny look, obviously concerned with her mental wellbeing.

“Do you need me to get you something?” he surprises her by asking. Her mind whirls for a moment and then she coughs, a scruffy attempt at clearing her throat.

“Morph.. Morph..” She needs drugs. Anything, painkillers. She needs to take the edge off.

“Morphine?” His eyebrows raise above the line of his cap. Tori nods and then blinks slowly, hoping that he has something, something to just keep her alive. He ducks his hat and then gets to his feet. She can see the cogs turning in his head, and she waits, as patiently as she can manage.

“I don’t got Morphine” he says “But I got some Hydro and Oxy somewhere”

Tori’s eyes widen, and she nods again, nerves firing down her spine and into her legs. She cries out in pain, and then she clenches her fists into tight balls.

“Tori?”

Nancy hugs her, planting a kiss on top of her wet hair. Tori is panicking, there’s too many aches in her body. She can’t cope, her breathing staggers and she gasps a little. Nancy strokes her little fingers across her forehead and then down her neck. Then she takes her hand and slowly, one finger at a time, she turns her sisters hand into a tight fist.

“Like this” She says. Tori looks at her hand and squeezes it tighter. It helps, she feels real, alive. Her breathing slows and she relaxes down into the bed, the back of her night shirt soaking into the bed sheets.

“Tori.” Nancy whispers, snuggling into her. She doesn’t say anything else, but she says her name with such love and hope that Tori feels ten times better, and she finds herself able to fall asleep in her twin’s arms.

Wilson stands in front of her, he’s holding an assortment of pills in his hand, crushing them up into a powder. Tori tries with all her might to reach out across the table top. She uses her fingers to drag her hand, her mouth dry and her body limp with anticipation.

“Pl…plea” Her throat barely survives the two syllables that she manages to choke out. He holds out the dust, just an inch out of her reach. She tries to stretch the final distance, but the pressure on her chest forces her to stop.

“You can have this.” He says. “If you stay with me.”

Tori hardly hears his words. She nods vigorously, and shakily turns her palm over to receive the pulverised drugs. He tips it into her hand and she pulls it towards her, quicker than she thought would be possible in her state. With an urgency that she’d never felt before, she licked the powder up, crunching it between her teeth, swallowing it with a relief that that almost immediately knocked her out again.

“Tori, like this.”

Tori stands at the sink. Her chain clinks against the metal of the basin as she washes the dishes. She tries to forget where she is, pretend she’s at home. That her Dad is about to walk through the door at any moment and pick her up, swing her around and tell her that she’s his princess. Hopefully he’d still be able to hold her again. She’d heard from the boy’s at Jack’s that some of the military had survived the outbreak. That the National Guard still had people dotted about. She scrubbed at the dish, hands dry and sore, still shaking but now under control from the drugs that Wilson had been giving her every few hours.

“Victoria, do you want some cake?”

“Do you have cake, Wilson?” she asks in a quiet voice, not looking up.

“No, but we can pretend” he replies from across the room. Tori puts the plate on the side and moves on to the next one. “And I thought I told you, you can call me Pa.”

Tori shakes her head a little and tries to melt back into the world again. Suddenly there’s a pounding at the door. Tori turns, sunken eyes fixing on the handle as it shakes in the wood, almost flying off of its hinges. Wilson slides his chair back from the table and stands up, picking his gun up and moving towards the window.

“Zs?” Tori whispers.

“No” he mutters “A group of men.” He shuffles to the door and unlocks it, pulling it open a little and poking his head out. He grunts out a couple of questions, asking what they wanted, who they were looking for. He turns and looks at Tori, before opening the door wider and letting the visitors in. A tall dark man enters the house, a gun matching yours in his hand. His eyes search the room and then fall upon you. A sly smile slides onto his face and he laughs.

“Jack” she breathes.

He looks at Wilson and nods towards her, sliding his gun into his belt as a sign that he doesn’t want any trouble.

“Who’s this?” he asks, shooting Tori another amused look.

“My daughter, Susie” Wilson says confidently, one hand on his hip, the other still holding his shotgun.

“Oh no.” replies Jack, moving further into the room and taking a deep breath in. “That right there. Is my broad, Tori.”

“She’s not yours, she’s mine, she’s staying with me.” Hisses Wilson, eyes narrowing. He lifts his gun higher and points it at Jack’s head, a steely determination filling him. Tori looks at both of them, as they assert their dominance over each other, over her. That strange feeling comes back, like she wants to punch him back for once, show him how much it hurts to be beaten by the person you love.

“I’m neither of yours.” She says suddenly, back straight, eyes angry. “What makes you think that I belong to you? What makes you think that any man can stake claim to me?” The anger in her voice is new to her, but she enjoys it. It makes her feel confident, independent, like her again. Both men look at her, shock across their features. Behind her back, she pulls out a match from the band of her dress, striking it against the cabinet.

“Tor” Chuckles Jack, “Come on, babe?”

With a flick of her wrist she throws the flame, across the kitchen and onto the stove, where the broken gas pipe bursts into fire. All eyes in the room fly to the blaze, Jack jumps away, rolling over the table. Tori, unable to move, tucks herself into a tight ball on the floor.

Then the whole building explodes.

Coughing, Tori lifts her head. Fire is still crackling around the house, and she chokes, smoke filling her mouth and spilling down her throat. Her hair and clothes are singed but there don’t seem to be any major burns to her body. She yanks the chain free of the weakened cabinet and splutters, holding an arm over her stinging eyes as she moves across the ashes towards the nearest opening blown into the wall. The bag of clothes and drugs that she’d packed one night on her bathroom time was still intact on the grass below and across from the window she’d thrown it from. With a final cough to clear her lungs and a look over her body for any injuries, she picked up the bag, slung it over her shoulder and started away, looking back only to make sure that none of the bodies had picked themselves up off of the floor.

But as she disappears back into the trees, piking a stray Z in the head with one of the kitchen knives that she’d collected over the few day’s she’d been there, One of the bodies in the debris does move. It gets to its knees and then to its feet, hand over his side where a piece of shrapnel had hit him.

“I’ll find you, Tori” he hisses under his breathe, blood running down his blackened face and into his mouth. “And I’m not going to be as considerate anymore.”


	4. Strange Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks have passed, but she can't seem to get far enough away from her fears. Perhaps the introduction of a scavenger will turn things around.

Candles flicker, casting shadows in patterns that seem almost otherworldly. Tori sits in front of them with her eyes closed, the warm glow of the flames falling onto her face and making her look dark and angry. Her hands are on her knees as she rolls her head on her neck, exhaling deeply. She can’t remember the last time that she’d felt safe enough to meditate. She always had the worry of Zombies around every corner at every moment. But she needed the guidance, and finding it made everything seem just that little bit better.

If anything is out there, please help me

She tries to ignore the sounds in the distance, growls and snarling, the cry of metal against metal. The nights were rarely silent anymore, there was always the reminder of what the world was like now, always something to set her on edge.

I just need to get through the next few weeks.

She feels the flames dance faster, a presence descending over the room, with a sigh she lets her face split into a genuine smile for the first time she can remember. Finally she was going to get some answers, some way to fight the withdrawal, make it easier to get as far away from Jack and her past as possible. That’s all she wanted, to make a new life for herself, maybe find a new group, build herself a story that wasn’t filled with pain. Then someday perhaps she’d find Nancy, her end goal. It had always been her sister.

“Tor?”

Her eyes snapped open, she didn’t move, her breathing shallowed and she stared at the wall, where her shadow fell, and a masculine figure moved above it. For a second she felt as though she was having a bad dream, that perhaps the incense she’d found had been laced with something. But then the voice spoke again, and it clicked how terribly real it all was.

“You thought I wouldn’t find you Tori.” He says, his shadow growing as he moves closer to her. “Didn’t your God’s tell me that I’d be here?”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” She hisses back, trying to sound more confident than she feels. She can already feel his poisonous tendrils making their way under her skin. She wants to vomit, but she also can’t make herself hate him in the moment. He’s there, just as he’s always been. She slowly unfolds her legs and turns, her eyes travelling up his brick wall of a body, he’s dressed in black and he’s smiling as though they were never apart.

“I missed you.” He says, holding an arm out as a gesture to welcome her closer.

“Don’t you dare.” Tori manages, still not able to make herself get up and move away from him as he creeps closer. He comes to a stop a couple of feet away from her and drops to his haunches, putting a hand on her leg, making her shudder.

“I’ve come to help you.” He whispers. “I’ve brought what you need.” Images flash in front of her eyes, her heart pumps just that little bit faster. He has it, he has what will make her feel better, and she doesn’t have to suffer anymore. He reaches behind him, an action that she’s learnt to react to. She moves to her knees, leaning towards him.

“Easy.” He mutters. “We’ve got all the time in the world my love.” He pulls the box from his back pocket and holds it between them, opening it up to pull the syringe free, loaded with that blue liquid. The thing that keeps her going, life in a tube. As he pulls the plunger back a little in preparation, she suddenly remembers the past few months in a series of flashes. She remembers running through the woods, falling and rolling, body writhing in pain from withdrawal. Seizure upon seizure, more than she’s ever encountered in her life put together. Falling dazed into dilapidated houses full of zombies, unable to see straight and even less able to protect herself. Nights terrified for her life, not knowing whether she was going to wake up in the morning.

“No.” She flinches away as he reaches for her arm. With wide eyes she pushes herself backwards along the floor and away from him until she reaches the wall. With narrowed eyes, he follows her, shuffling forward, boxing her into the corner.

“Come on Tor, I’m trying to make everything better.”

She kicks at his face, but he dodges to the side quick enough to avoid the full brunt of the force. With a smirk, he rubs his jaw where her heel had caught him and dives towards her. She lets out a cry and tries to dive out from him, and she would have succeeded if it weren’t for her necklace. Jack grabs the long silver chain holding her pentacle and yanks her back towards him, half choking her in the process.

“Stop” She gasps, flailing a little as he wraps the cold chain round and around his hand, bringing her closer to his face until she barely has space to move.

“I’ve got you.” He says through gritted teeth. “Finally, I’ve fucking got you.” She hangs from his grip, back bent at an angle that creates a bone shaking pain that rattles through her entire body. In a final attempt to fight him she spits in his face, watching happily as he wipes it away with the back of his other hand. Then with a scowl he stabs the injector into her neck and pushes the drugs into her blood stream. His face swims before her eyes and pleasure erupts through every nerve in her body.

He lays her down on the floor and brushes her hair out of her face, smiling down at her.

“See, Tor?” He mumbles. “There was no need to make me angry.” Tori’s vision fades in and out, and during one of her black outs, Jack disappears. She knows that he’s probably not far, he wouldn’t leave her so soon after finding her again. She hopes that he wouldn’t anyway. She needs him.

Eventually she regains full control of herself, her thoughts, her feelings and her body. She pushes herself up onto her elbows and sits up, still in bliss, she feels better than she has in ages. Nothing aches, her vision isn’t blurred around the edges anymore. She’s not on fire. As she gets to her feet, her hand flies to her chest, and it’s bare. Her chain is gone. She looks at the floor around her, frowning as it’s nowhere to be seen, Jack must have it.

“Jack?” She calls, voice hoarse. There’s silence. She moves quietly across the room, noticing that all of her candles and altar equipment are gone. He must have packed it away while she was out, hopefully he’d been careful with it, it was difficult enough to find the shit she needed this day without it breaking within weeks of obtaining it.

“Jackson?” She peeks out into the hallway and then pads out, leaning over the bannister and taking in a breath of air, filled with the scent of breakfast. Where the hell had he found the supplies for… was it bacon that she could smell? No way. She started on her way again, bounding down the stairs, stroking at the sore injection site next to her throat. He’d been a little too rough with her, she’d have to have a word with him… maybe. 

Standing in the doorway, she watches him move around the kitchen, moving something around a pan. A couple of his men are outside of the door In the garden, She’d been stupid to think that he’d have come alone, but at least she didn’t have to be scared anymore. Jack had the drugs, and he had people to protect her.

There’s a sound from the other side of the house and she turns her head in the direction that it had come from. With a glace back it’s obvious that she’s the only one to have heard it, and so she decides that it wouldn’t hurt to investigate. She tiptoes away from the kitchen and towards the front of the building. The lounge door is ajar, and with a slight push she lets it swing open, leaning forward to inspect the contents of the room, everything looks normal, except for the curtains blowing in a soft breeze blowing in through an open window.

“Hello?” She takes a step inwards and wraps an arm around her middle in an attempt to keep herself warm. It’s only then that she notices she’s not wearing her clothes, Jack’s dressed her in a white gown that falls to her knees, It’s light and flowing, but it makes her feel a little uncomfortable for a reason that she can’t quite put her finger on. She curls some of the fabric at her hip into her fist, trying to think clearly, but falling short.

“Don’t move.”

Something cold presses into her temple, It takes her only seconds to realise that its’ a gun, but by the times that she does, a hand is over her mouth. She tries to scream out, but the only sound she can manage is a muffled groan. The man presses the gun into her a little more firmly and puts his face next to hers, turning so that he can whisper into her ear.

“You’re going to help me with a little something, cariño” His voice is low and warm like honey, and it’s so calm that it chills her to the bone even more than the freezing air pouring into the room. She nods, hoping that if she complies with what she wants, then he’ll let her live. Slowly he leads her out of the room that he’d entered from and through the hallway, back to the kitchen.

“Hey, Asshole.” Her captor clicks the safety off of the pistol and she closes her eyes for a moment, trying to compose herself. When she opens them, Jack is facing them, raising one eyebrow. He lifts a mug to his lips and takes a sip of coffee.

“Something you want?” He asks, gesturing to Tori, who’s beginning to shake out of terror.

“I need all of your weapons.” Says the man. “Put them all into a bag or I shoot your little lady right here right now.” He tilts the barrel against Tori’s head, making her stand up a little taller in his grasp. His hand softens on her shoulder for a moment, but then tightens again as if remembering why he’s there. She watches Jack carefully as he puts his mug aside, biting his bottom lip.

“Do it.” He says, another one of his smiles tugging at his lips. Her eyes widen, she can’t believe her ears. Would he let her slip through his fingers so quickly? Didn’t he love her?

“Excuse me?” The man’s hand relaxes once more and she rolls her shoulder, trying to figure out whether she could run or not.

“Shoot her!” Jack exclaims, “She’s worth less than the weapons.” Tori’s knees weaken, and if it hadn’t been for the weapon encouraging her to stay stock still, she probably would have fallen to the ground. She waits for the shot, but it doesn’t come.

“Jack?” She whispers, eyes watering. He seems to ignore her, simply waving in one of the men who had been outside and pointing towards her with a bored expression. The man lifts his gun, aiming at Tori’s forehead. A whimper escapes her, and this time she thinks that she’s definitely going to collapse.

“que demonios?” The guy mutters as Tori closes her eyes, waiting for death yet again. But as the gun goes off, she’s thrown to the side. She hits the stairs, the wind leaving her and rendering her paralysed for a moment, the man who had been holding her is above her, his eyes look her over, checking that she’s uninjured it seems before jumping up and pressing his back against the wall, gun up.

“You sick fucks.” He spits, leaning around the doorframe to let off a couple of rounds into the kitchen. Glass shatters and Tori curls herself up a little, scared that one of Jack’s followers was going to come around the corner and fill her with bullets.

“You think it’s okay to use a young girl as fodder?” He adds, firing again, and then cursing, reloading a gun. There’s silence and he peeks again, obviously finding the room empty as he comes back to Tori, giving her an odd look that a cross between apologetic and angry. He waves a hand in front of her face and licks his lips as he checks her eyes for any sign of response.

“You in there, girl?” He asks, his hand touching her arm gently. After a few seconds she manages a nod and then curls her fingers one by one into her fist, calming herself slowly.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters. “I thought there was no chance that anybody would get hurt.” He shakes his head and then offers his hand to help her up. She takes it gingerly and groans as she stands, feeling a pain in her knee. She stumbles, but he catches her, standing her up carefully.

“Woah there.” He breathes. “You in pain?” Tori tenses her jaw, wondering whether she should lie. But eventually she gives into his gaze and nods, looking down at her leg.

“Weak bones.” She tells him. “It’s probably just a sprain.”

“Try and walk on it?” He asks of her, stepping away to give her some space. She looks at him for a minute, taking in his broad frame, warm skin and short clipped haircut. His eyebrows raise as he waits for her to move and hesitantly she takes a step, moaning as pain shoots through her limb.

“No, no no.” He tuts. “That looks broken.” He ducks forward and supports her weight again, lifting her off of her feet and swinging her up into a bridal hold. He carries her back up the stairs and into the room she had been staying in, and he puts her down on the cot, apologising over and over as she whimpers in pain.

He sits down on the mattress next to her and pulls the bandana from around his head, and ties it around her knee, grimacing as she lets out a gentle whine that sounds almost lost.

“You alright?” He checks, looking up into her face. Her face pales, and her eyes flicker as she nods.

“Tori, I’m Tori.” She breathes. He smiles with his eyes, but it doesn’t quite reach the rest of his face.

“Vasquez.” He mumbles, pulling the bandana tighter around her broken limb. “Tori short for Victoria?”

“Yeah.” She can hardly speak now, she tries to curl her fingers, but they hardly move. Shit, not again.

“A beautiful name, it means you conquer” He says, the smile finally pulling his mouth up at the side. He looks over and it fades, a frown taking its place.

“Tori?” He whispers, lifting a hand to click in front of her face, trying to get her to open her eyes. She moans in the back of her throat, but manages nothing more. He watches as her entire body tenses up so much that her back arches up off of bed.

“Shit.” He hisses, “Tori?” He puts his hands on her shoulders and pushes her down onto the bed as she convulses a little under his hold. She bucks only once or twice, and then goes completely still, remaining just as tense. He checks her neck for a pulse and sighs with relief when he finds one, dropping his head.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, pulling away. “I’m here.” He sits up straight and regards her with a frustrated look, waiting patiently for her to come back around.


End file.
